Mary Darby Robinson

(1758 - 1800 / England)

Mary Darby Robinson Poems

1. Ode To Della Crusca 1/3/2003
2. Monody To The Memory Of Chatterton 1/3/2003
3. Ode To Valour 1/3/2003
4. Sonnet Xxxiii: I Wake 1/3/2003
5. Sonnet Ii: High On A Rock 1/3/2003
6. To Rinaldo 1/3/2003
7. Sonnet Viii: Why, Through Each Aching Vein 1/3/2003
8. Sonnet Xxiii: To Aetna's Scorching Sands 1/3/2003
9. Oberon To The Queen Of The Fairies 1/3/2003
10. Sonnet V: O! How Can Love 1/3/2003
11. Ode To The Muse 1/3/2003
12. Ode To Melancholy 1/3/2003
13. Sonnet Xxxvii: When, In The Gloomy Mansion 1/3/2003
14. Sonnet Xxxi: Far O'Er The Waves 1/3/2003
15. Sonnet Xxxii: Blest As The Gods 1/3/2003
16. Sonnet -- The Peasant 1/3/2003
17. Sonnet To Amicus 1/3/2003
18. Sonnet 1/3/2003
19. Sonnet Xxxiv: Venus! To Thee 1/3/2003
20. Sonnet -- The Mariner 1/3/2003
21. Second Ode To The Nightingale 1/3/2003
22. Ode To Health 1/3/2003
23. Sonnet Xiii: Bring, Brick To Deck My Brow 1/3/2003
24. Sonnet Xxxix: Prepare Your Wreaths 1/3/2003
25. Sonnet Xii: Now, O'Er The Tesselated Pavement 1/3/2003
26. Sonnet X: Dang'Rous To Hear 1/3/2003
27. Sonnet Xxxvi: Lead Me, Sicilian Maids 1/3/2003
28. To The Myrtle 1/3/2003
29. To The Muse Of Poetry 1/3/2003
30. Sonnet Iii: Turn To Yon Vale Beneath 1/3/2003
31. Sonnet Xxiv: O Thou! Meek Orb 1/3/2003
32. Sonnet Xi: O! Reason! 1/3/2003
33. Sonnet Xviii: Why Art Thou Chang'D? 1/3/2003
34. Ode To Reflection 1/3/2003
35. Poor Marguerite 1/3/2003
36. Ode To Meditation 1/3/2003
37. Sonnet Xxxv: What Means The Mist 1/3/2003
38. The Trumpeter, An Old English Tale 1/3/2003
39. Sonnet To Ingratitude 1/3/2003
40. Sonnet -- The Tear 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Mary Darby Robinson


WHEN from the craggy mountain's pathless steep,
Whose flinty brow hangs o'er the raging sea,
My wand'ring eye beholds the foamy deep,
I mark the restless surge­and think of THEE.
The curling waves, the passing breezes move,
Changing and treach'rous as the breath of LOVE;
The "sad similitude" awakes my smart,
And thy dear image twines about my heart.

When at the sober hour of sinking day,
Exhausted Nature steals to soft repose,
When the hush'd linnet slumbers on the spray,
And scarce a ZEPHYR fans the drooping ROSE;
I glance o'er scenes of bliss to...

Read the full of Absence

The Poor Singing Dame

Beneath an old wall, that went round an old Castle,
For many a year, with brown ivy o'erspread;
A neat little Hovel, its lowly roof raising,
Defied the wild winds that howl'd over its shed:
The turrets, that frown'd on the poor simple dwelling,
Were rock'd to and fro, when the Tempest would roar,
And the river, that down the rich valley was swelling,
Flow'd swiftly beside the green step of its door.

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